Wings of Gold v2
by Breakaway25
Summary: Lieutenant James Wright was your average career Navy man, but while making a routine flight in an antique F6F fighter, something happened. Now he has been thrown back to WWII, in a world of living machines. The worst part is that he has now become the F6F that he was flying. Now he must learn to live as an aircraft stuck in the middle of WWII. Please read and review


**Ford Island NAS, Oahu, Territory of Hawaii, June 12, 1941**

Ensign John Smith was dozing in the shade of hanger 5 when Lieutenant Ryan Morely found him. Morely had been looking for Smith for about ten minutes now, and he was rather peeved. Morely left the area and then came back a moment later, with a fire hose. Ensign Smith was awoken by a stream of cold water striking his engine cowl. "Wha-Wha-what did ya do that for," Smith yelled, gasping for air.

"Hey, sleepyhead, the SP's brought in another dozer. I've been looking for you for about ten minutes now. I don't mind you taking a snooze, but tell me where your gonna be before you drift off," said Morely.

"Ah, come on. I just came off watch," Smith called back.

"Come now ensign, we members of the naval service must be ready to answer the call of duty at any moment," Morely chastised. Smith glared at him for a few seconds before breaking out into a throaty chuckle. The pair was something of an oddity in the rigid structure of the peacetime Navy. They had been given the Ford Island assignment not because it was a coveted position, but rather because the Navy bureaucrats back in Washington had no where else to put them. They were the first members of the new breed, the F6F Hellcat. The only thing the pair had in common was the fact that they were both Hellcats. Morely was two years older and a regular, a graduate of the US Naval Academy. Smith was an OCS graduate and thus but a lowly reservist. They had met while in training at Pensacola NAS, and had been put into a class of two. They managed to complete the training without either getting themselves booted out, or angering the base commander.

When they graduated there was another problem. There were two main types of fighter aircraft currently serving in the Navy The older Brewster F2A Buffalo, which was considered by most to be the worst fighter aircraft in any serving military. Then there was the slightly newer Grumman F4F Wildcat, which was considered to be a match for the Japanese A6M Zeke*, its perceived rival. The F6F Hellcat was the next generation of fighter and could vastly outperform both of the older planes. This caused some resentment in the older naval aviators, so when they entered active duty the were sent to Ford Island and forgotten.

There they served under one Commander Eric Felts. He was a salty old Wildcat who told the pair that he thought that the Navy had done a rotten thing to them, and spent quite a bit of time trying to get them reassigned. He kept trying until the paper pushers in D.C. finally told him to stop, and leave the Hellcats where the were. Because there were no established Navy fighter squadrons in Hawaii at the beginning of 1941, Smith and Morely became assistant flight officers to Commander Felts. They made sure that the planes in Hawaii stayed out of the brig, and that if they landed there, that a court martial was only performed if absolutely necessary. It was actually a rather simple task, the only aviators permanently stationed in Hawaii were the PBY-5 maritime patrol aircraft, some Army Air Corps bombers, and a Marine Corps fighter squadron, and they kept out of trouble.

Then in 1941 President Roosevelt had decreed that the Pacific fleet should be moved from San Diego to Pearl Harbor. Now there was at least one aircraft carrier in port at all times, and with the carriers came at least, one fighter squadron, one torpedo bomber squadron, one scout bomber squadron, and one dive bomber squadron. Those aircraft loved nothing more then carousing in one of Oahu's many Navy bars, getting a little soused then becoming involved in an altercation with either the local Marine aviators or an occasional Army Air Corps bomber. Over the last two months they had "rescued" six planes from the Pearl Harbor brig for everything from charges of "drunk and disorderly" to "striking a fellow officer". The worst offense, however, was one time when one of the Wildcat's off of the _Lexington_ had gotten ahold of some belted .50 caliber ammunition and had proceeded to shoot at the sign outside of the Marine Corps Ewa field. Commander Felts had to personally apologize to Colonel Clyde Dawkins, the commander of MAG-11, the following day.

"Alright where is this dozer?" Smith asked. Every so often the Navy SP's would bring in a plane that had had too much to drink and had passed out. It wasn't illegal to pass out on the side of the road, but it was dangerous, so every time the SP's found a blacked out plane, they brought him back to Smith and Morely.

"Come on, he's over here," said Morely. Smith got up and followed Morely. When they came around the hangar what they saw confused them. The plane passed out on the ground before them was a Hellcat, but that wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that the Hellcat had no markings whatsoever. Normally a plane would have markings denoting his rank, unit, and branch of service, but this plane was only painted in the two-tone blue and white camouflage. Morely moved up to the plane and shoved him with a tire, he didn't even grunt.

So then Smith came up and yelled, "WAKE UP," right in his face. Nothing. The pair sat in thought for a moment before Smith went and got the fire hose Morely had used on him.

When they turned it on the sleeping Hellcat his eyes popped open and he woke up shouting, "Alright who's the SOB who though up this stunt."

Smith looked at Morely, shrugged, and said, "Sir, can you please give me your name, rank, and the name of your CO." The Hellcat turned towards the sound of the voice, gave Smith a once over, and promptly passed out again. Morely put the hose to him again.

"Alright enough with the hose. I'm up. I'm up," he shouted.

"Sir, name, rank, and your, CO," Smith repeated.

The Hellcat stared blankly into space for a moment before answering, "Lieutenant James Wright, US Navy, and my CO is Commander Charles Walker – CO of VFA-103."

Morely was the first to speak, "Sir, I am unfamiliar with Commander Walker, or VFA-103."

"I would assume so," Lieutenant Wright replied, cryptically.

"Sir, can you please tell my why you aren't wearing any markings," Smith inquired.

"Huh?" Wright asked. Smith gestured at Wright's fuselage. Wright looked down at himself and muttered, "Well that figures. Ensign there is a perfectly logical explanation for me being here with no markings, but I don't think that either of us is going to believe it."

"Lieutenant, could you please come with me, we need to talk to our CO," Morely said, dryly. Wright nodded his approval and began to follow Smith and Morely down the tarmac. The trio came to a hangar at the end of a row of hangers marked with the ledger, "Commander Eric Felts, CO Ford Island NAS."

"Ford Island? That was bulldozed years ago," Wright muttered.

"Excuse me," Smith asked.

"Nevermind." Wright watched as Smith and Morely folded their wings to fit through the hangar's narrow door. He struggled for a few minutes before he was able to make his wings respond. In the process several small items fell out of his wingroot. Smith noticed the items and rolled over to pick them up. There was a small, blue leather square emblazoned with the seal of the Navy, and there was a small, gold metal object that was shaped like a pair of birds wings jutting out of a shield with a fouled anchor behind it. Smith had never seen the symbol before. He gave the two items back to Wright who looked at them nodded his thanks and stowed them in his wingroot.

When they entered the hangar the first thing that Lieutenant James Wright USNR noticed about the room was that there was a very normal looking desk in its center, but behind the desk was an F4F Wildcat. The Wildcat had eyes and a mouth just like the two Hellcats that had brought him here, and, now that he thought about it, so did he. "Well, well, where did you find the third Hellcat, Lieutenant?" Felts asked. His statement confirmed Wright's hypothesis, he was now an F6F Hellcat, he still didn't know how he felt about that.

"Sir, the SP's brought him in a little while ago," Morely replied.

"Well, son, what do you have to say for yourself," Felts asked Wright.

"Sir, lieutenant James Wright, reporting for whatever duty the commander deems fit," Wright barked.

"First off, do you have an ID or records jacket, or know where they are? Second, do you have transfer orders?" Felts asked. Wright thought for a second. He had his AFIS card in the wallet that he had dropped earlier, and he knew where his records were. They were at Pearl Harbor, but in the office of the 3rd fleet.

Explaining either point might prove difficult so he simply said, "No sir."

Felts looked at him quizzically, then asked, "Then why are you here?"

"Sir, I don't know."

"You don't know?" Felts asked trying not to lose his temper.

"Sir, before your officers found me on the Tarmac out there, I was a Part of general Chenault's AVG. My records were destroyed in China," Wright lied.

"The Flying Tigers? I thought that they were only taking Army planes," Felts questioned.

"Sir, they took a few promising Navy officers right out of Pensacola. I was asked by General Chenault personally," Wright continued.

"Then why, may I ask, are you here," Felts asked.

"Sir, my tour with the AVG ran out a few days ago. Since my records were destroyed while on detached service, I was ordered here for further assignment by General Chenault," Wright finished. He thought that it was a goo fabrication, the only way for Commander Felts to check his story was to call General Chenault, and he was rather indisposed at the moment.

Felts thought about Wright's story for a few minutes before replying, "Well lieutenant, I think that you are a blessing in disguise. Many of the planes here have never heard a shot fired in anger. They all have this perception that the Zero is a terrible plane that can be shot down just by looking at it funny. Lieutenant Morely, take the lieutenant down to one of the paint shops and get his markings restored. Then take him down to housing and get him a room in the ABOQ. I'll handle the personnel matters. Wright, you'll get a new ID and records jacket soon, but I need to ask you, are you a junior or full lieutenant?" There were two grades of lieutenant in the Navy. Junior grade lieutenants were equivalent in rank to Army and Marine 1st lieutenants, and full lieutenants were equivalent to Army and Marine captains.

"Sir, I am a full lieutenant," Wright replied.

"Alright then I see nothing else that needs to be done here, dismissed," Felts said. Wright got up and turned to exit the hangar. Morely met him on his way out and led him through the door and down the tarmac.

"So you were in the AVG?" Morely asked, in awe.

"Yes, I was," Wright replied.

"So what are the Japs like?"

"Lieutenant the Japs are nothing like you think. They are first class soldiers. The Zero can out fly the Wildcat. In fact it outclasses the Wildcat in every area except toughness. The Zero has no armor or self sealing tanks. One well place shot into its fuel tanks will make it go up in flames," Wright explained.

"Well then it's a good thing you're here, the planes here need to know that," Morely explained.

"Here we are," he said outside of a nondescript building. Morely led Wright inside the building and up to a small forklift wearing the insignia of a petty officer 2nd class. "Hey, petty officer," Morely called, "We need a set of markings for this plane right here."

The petty officer looked at Wright for a second before asking, "What do you need, sir."

"For now, just some full lieutenant's bars and NAVY across the back," Morely explained. Wright suddenly had a thought. He shook out his naval aviators wings and gave them to the petty officer.

"Do you think you could paint that just below my cockpit?" Wright asked.

The petty officer looked at it for a second before replying, "I think I can handle that. What is it?"

"Just a memento, a symbol of another time," Wright replied cryptically.

Morely was the first to speak up, "Well if I'm not needed, I'm gonna go sort out housing. See you in a bit lieutenant." He turned to leave the room.

Two hours later Wright emerged from the paint shop wearing the twin silver bars of a full lieutenant just below his cockpit, and NAVY was stenciled on the back of his fuselage. The petty officer had managed to make a pretty good replication of his wings of gold, that was painted just above his lieutenants bars on his left side. He was met outside the paint room by Ensign Smith. Smith immediately recognized the wings of gold as the pin he retrieved earlier. "What is that?"

"Just a reminder of an earlier time," Wright replied.

"Well you're gonna have to tell me about it sometime," Smith continued, "Morely got you a room in the ABOQ, and asked me to ask you if you would be okay getting drinks at the O-club at 1800."

"That would be fine, but for right now can you take me to my room," Wright replied.

"Sure, follow me." Smith led Wright out to Ford Island and up to a row of buildings, the first of which was labeled, "Aircraft Bachelor Officer's Quarters." Smith led him into one of the buildings and up to a small receptionist's desk. Behind the desk was a small forklift wearing the stripes of a petty officer 3rd.

The petty officer looked up at Smith and asked, "May I help you, sir?"

"I think I can cover it. The lieutenant here is billeted in room 104. He needs the keys to the room and to sign for the furnishings," Smith explained. The petty officer nodded his approval of Smith's statement. He went into a small adjoining room and came back with a set of keys and a clipboard. He then led Wright down a corridor to a door marked 104. He then gave Wright a key and explained that if Wright lost the key it meant that he would have to pay a $10 fee. He then led Wright into the room and gave him the clipboard with the list of furnishings. Wright looked at the clipboard then at the furniture, and then signed the clipboard. The forklift nodded his approval and left Smith and Wright alone in the room. Smith reminded Wright of the meeting at the O-club at 1700 then left Wright alone in the room.

Wright found himself alone in the room that was to be his living quarters for the foreseeable future. Wright was a career Navy man so he was used to living from one BOQ to the next, but this was new. He found a newspaper lying on the floor near the door. He grabbed it with his teeth – that would take some getting used to – and laid it out on the sleeping mat. The headline was a cutesy home interest story, but that wasn't what he was interested in, the paper was dated June, 12, 1941. Wright sat back on he gear and sighed. He had already figured out the year, the vehicles that he had seen fit the time period, and he had figured out that the US was still at peace, there were none of the frenzied wartime activities that he had seen pictures of. He pulled himself back up on his gear and rolled back out into the corridor. He rolled down the hall to the communal restroom. There he found a device that was close enough to a shower that he could figure it out. He spent ten minutes just letting the water run down his fuselage.

He left the restroom and proceeded out of the BOQ and down to Ford Island's main runway. He pulled up to the runway's threshold and looked over at the tower. A green light flashed from its roof, signaling that he was cleared to takeoff. He pulled onto the center line and tried to figure out what to do next. He decided to stop thinking and let the years of built up muscle memory take over. Not surprising him one bit he could feel his control surfaces responding to his commands. He dropped his flaps, ran up his engines, and popped his wheel brakes. He began to roll down the runway at an ever increasing pace. He knew instinctively the exact moment when he was moving at takeoff speed, and pulled up. The same feeling of euphoria that had gripped his stomach every single time he had defied gravity in the past returned, but differently. This time he wasn't just feeling the air through the seat of his pants, he was feeling the air rush past his very skin. He climbed higher and and higher letting his mind become lost in the splendor of the wild blue yonder.

* * *

***Historical** **Note**: The Mitsubishi A6M fighter was known by several names. At the beginning of the war it was referred to, for a large part, by its Allied code designation of Zeke. However as the war progressed and more was learned about the plane a new nickname emerged, one that became much more synonymous with the aircraft: Zero.

**A/N: **I apologize for some of the military jargon that I use in my stories. I try to define most of the terms but sometimes the definition just doesn't fit. So here is this chapter's Navy to English dictionary:

SP- shore patrolman, the Navy's version of the Army's military police

OCS- Officer Candidate School, the Navy's program for training and commissioning officers from civilian colleges and the enlisted ranks.

NAS- Naval Air Station, the Navy's term for an air base.

Pensacola NAS- The Navy's main air training facility located in the Florida panhandle.

PBY-5- The PBY Catalina, a high winged twin engined patrol aircraft. Originally designed to fill the role of long range bomber it grew to be a superb maritime patrol aircraft.

MAG- Marine Air Group, a collection of Marine air squadrons.

CO- Commanding Officer

VFA- Fixed Wing Strike Fighter squadron, the modern designation for Navy F/A-18 squadrons.

AFIS- Armed Forces Identification Service, a plastic ID card with the bearers picture and service information.

3rd Fleet- The modern US Navy force tasked with guarding the Pacific.

AVG- American Volunteer Group, a US force under Nationalist Chinese control who later became known as the Flying Tigers.

BOQ, ABOQ- Bachelor Officer's Quarters, Aviation Bachelor Officer's Quarters, Quarters for unmarried officers to live. Quarters for unmarried aircraft to live.


End file.
